


Forever Missing Him

by xxcay_flashfanxx



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jason Todd Angst, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Other, Tim Drake Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcay_flashfanxx/pseuds/xxcay_flashfanxx
Summary: He remembered the heart-wrenching sound of a body-like-figure snapping as they were thrown across the room. The Red Robin enigma scattering across the room, as his mouth grew dry, and his mind fuzzy. He had heard a broken whimper from the body, a sign that he had also been there for days, his body dishevelled. T/W: Major Character Death and Kidnapping
Kudos: 43





	Forever Missing Him

Red Hood ditched his helmet, heavy pants coming from his mouth. He gasped for breath, he felt as if his chest were closing up on itself, betraying his own body. He looked around at the growing puddle of red, a lake of death. He gasped again, the bullet hole marking his shoulder, encasing it in red substance.

He looked around again. The world was fading, a whirl of blurry lights swarming his vision. He shivered at the tingles that went down his spine, as he nearly fell into unconsciousness grasp. Or death. One of the two.

He longed for a feeling in his hands, to feel something. He heard a pained cough from beside him, and his breath hitched.

"Ja-Jay?" a voice spoke softly. Jason cursed in his head.

"Timmy?" he slurred, and the body beside his tensed.

It was like a clock was ticking down until unconsciousness. A blackness overcome him for a second, before he desperately opened his heavy eyelids.

"It h-hurts Jay" Tim spoke again, a sore throat slightly preventing him from speaking. Jason tried to turn to face Tim, but a searing pain sore through his stomach as he moved. He bit his purpled lip. The dark room made it nearly impossible to see, but his eyes followed the source of sound.

He saw the figure of his brother. His face was beaten black and blue. His lips were swollen, a gradient of purple and blue. His eye was now an unhealthy purple and black colour. A deep cut of flesh ran jagged down his bloody cheek, surely leaving a scar chasing behind it. His hair was a bloodied mess, the red substance mixed in with the normally black hair. The Red Robin uniform was in shreds, discarded on the floor, his bare torso and chest showing scars upon scars, naked skin smudged red.

His memories came flooding back suddenly, a wave of glimpses from the past. His head ached, as he remembered the traumatic scenes of the past 2 weeks. He was alone for the first day, he remembered thinking that he was going to die alone. Again.

He then remembered the heart-wrenching sound of a body-like-figure snapping as they were thrown across the room. The Red Robin enigma scattering across the room, as his mouth grew dry, and his mind fuzzy. He had heard a broken whimper from the body, a sign that he had also been there for days, his body dishevelled.

He remembered the next day, the endless torture, suffering. The mixture of torture devices. Guns, knives, endless others… crowbars, physical and mental torture. Drugs, starvation. Sometimes he was a high as the stars, but still sober enough to remember. Remember. The almost life-ending swing of a bat, a croaked out 'no' from his brother, saving his life but at a sacrifice. The seconds that felt like hours when he waited for his brother in the decaying cell, his brother's punishment of torture when he had saved Jason's life with a single word. Tim had suffered endless hours of wounds, kick upon punch, snap upon crack, when the people had broken his body, bone by bone, rib by rib.

Jason had apologised profusely, as much as he could. His body ached. He couldn't imagine what Tim had gone through. For him. For Jason. Tim had shrugged best he could, his shoulders were snapped. He could only gasp for a pathetic attempt of breath.

His eyes suddenly became focused again, the Lazarus green returning to full glory. He looked at Tim's baby blues, they were glazed over, as he fought against his own body.

"It- It's okay Ti-Tim" he coughed; the floor now stained with red. Splatters of blood puddles remained everywhere in the cell.

"I d-don't think an-anyone's co-coming Jay" Tim whimpered, and both hearts shattered like glass, now shards all over the floor. He sounded broken. The darkness of the cell seemed suffocating now. Tim had given up. Jason had already.

They sat in deafening silence, both throats screaming and swollen. Jason let a tear escape from the jail of his eyes. His ears rung, an eternity of pain inside. He heard his brother's pained breaths.

"W-where were you shot?" Jason spoke, and Tim moaned as he rolled over to show Jason the pouring blood from his wounds.

Jason cursed, pained. His brother had been shot in the left shoulder and leg. Jason had only been shot in the shoulder. His brothers attempt for breath became the only sound in the room. Tim was left bleeding out, broken, tortured and spirt crushed into shattered pieces all over the decayed and dusty floor of the cell.

Jason ignored the sounds of gun shots outside, ringing through his ears through the seemingly still, cold air. He envied the people outside, though they were worthless thugs, toys for the mob boss to play with, puppets, their strings always pulling pulled. He envied them, because, they could still breathe. While he and Tim were heaving through corrupted, destroyed lungs.

The only source of light was a dim, small window in the hilt of the ceiling, slightly glistening onto Tim's slashed cheek, blood running down, as if trying to escape his beaten face. His broken face, tear stained and gasping for life, made Jason wonder what he looked like too. Tim had experienced the brawn of the situation, but Jason was already mentally scarred with this.

He let the tears flow, let the tears wash away the memories from the past. The suffering. The pain.

He heard Tim sniffle too, ending up blending into the sound of deep pants.

"I- don't kn-know how long I'll la-last Jay" he breathed out.

Jason's breath hitched. No, he has to survive. He can't give up He can't d-

"Tim- "he started, before he heard the door swing open.

His vision was hazy, he could only see the figured, blurred lines of a body-like smudge.

A voice smirked from the blurred door speaking words, threats Jason couldn't understand. His face held a torturous grin, enjoying seeing the suffering, and struggle to even hear. Jason groaned as he was kicked in the rib, a sickening crack sounded throughout the small, enclosed room.

"Let's start with you, shall we?" he breathily whispered into Jason's dishevelled hair, throwing his head down onto the cold red stained floor, adding to the bloody mess.

The man cackled, pulling out a gun. Jason's body twitched in fear that he normally wouldn't show.

The man twisted his crooked lips into a smirk, placing the gun on the ground, skidding towards Tim a bit.

The man stood firmly in his place, the small window in the ceiling reflecting his red lips curling into a smile. He raised his arms as if to show 'surrender', but his daring smile showed otherwise, betraying the movement.

Jason looked up, tiredly struggling to get to his knees, means while trying to figure out his kidnaper's mind games. His wounds felt as if they were being lit on fire, stretching and bleeding out.

The man ran at him, kicking his chest down to the ground. Jason bit his bruised lip, hiding a small moan.

He shakily got up to his legs, his shadow dancing across the walls. Even by his shadow, he knew he looked shit. Pathetic. Weak.

J ason looked over to his brother, his used to be replacement. The boy had earned the place of being his brother. He worked hard, earned the title of Robin, had been through so much (Joker Jr, especially. He still had nightmares though), his mother and father had died. He wasn't chosen, he forced his way in. But that didn't matter. He had earned everything, even though Damian had stolen it away.

Tim had sacrificed himself countless times. Lost sleep, suffered through child abuse, panic attacks, anorexia and came out stronger than before.

Tim looked at him with a pained expression, his body posture and facial expression screamed 'no! don't do this!'. Jason slightly shifted his leg before throwing a sloppy fist, barely connecting with the man's skin.

The man laughed, brushing it off of his cheek. "Pathetic"

The man threw a hand, connecting with Jason's face, a tingling feeling left behind. A pink hand was stained on his face, as a palm coupled with his scarred face. Smudges of grey filled his vision, blinking felt like an eternity of pain, as if a thorn had been pierced into his eyes.

Tim made a noise in the background, rolling onto his back. He winced at the fiery pain that shot down his spine. The blood oozed out of his wounds, gifting the rotting floor an endless supply of blood and crimson. It was obvious the wounds were bad, the blood glistening on and around his frail body.

Jason cursed under pained breath. He knew both their wounds were bad, but he knew those would take time to heal. Maybe never heal. There are wounds that never heal. Pain that seems all too real.

And the most painful moment in a person's life was when the world was crumbling around them, and all they can do is stare blankly.

Jason would not let that happen to Tim. His little brother.

He suffered another blow at the distraction, his knees colliding his with the floor. He looked up weakly, and saw the man all too happy. He grabbed a gun from his boots. So, this was how he would die. Again. A gun, really, was better than a crowbar and bomb. At least this would be fast. The fear that overwhelmed him just moments ago were drowned out with a wave of clam, acceptance.

At the click of the gun, he closed his eyes, ready for impact. At least Tim would be safe. That's all that mattered at this moment. The dark room and Tim's panicked face was the last thing he saw, before his vision was swamped with darkness. The gun sounded again. He braced again, when the sound of the bullet ripped through the air.

He waited one moment. Two moments. Three moments. He opened his eyes hesitantly, seeing the man gone, disappeared into the small source of light, behind the door. The bullet…?

Oh shit, no, no, no, no

His breath hitched in his throat, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Suddenly it became heard to breathe, because- because that was his little brother. His brother lying on the floor before him, a gun wound to the middle of the ribs. And in a heart wrenching moment, he realised how. Tim had saved him. Him.

"Timmy?" his voice croaked out, receiving no response, except a groan echoing from his brother's mouth, blood gurgling onto the floor, chest barely rising and falling. Jason kneeled over Tim, sobs pouring out onto Tim.

"No. Don't you dare die on me. Don't you fucking dare die on me. If you die on me right now, I'm going to hell and bringing you back so I can kill you again, and then bring you back again because if I killed you Bats would kill me and then we'd both be dead"

Tim chuckled a bit, morphing into coughs quickly, blood splattering on the already-bloodied floor.

"Timmy. Timmy. Come on buddy, you need to survive, just hold- "he choked on his words.

"Sor-Sorry Jay" Tim croaked out. His skin looked even more pale, the red substance standing out against the white skin.

Don't be sorry. Don't be sorry. This isn't happening. This isn't-

"Timmy. Come on buddy. Come on" Jason sobbed. Tim gave him one last small smile and a large, pained breath before his body went still. His eyes glassed over, the baby blue's vibrant colour disappearing under a sheet of glass.

"Timmy. No! Come on!" Jason yelled, fury replacing sadness for a moment. A broken sob filled the silence of the room.

"Timmy. Don't leave me, please" He repeated, pleading with Tim, the world, anyone who was out there, for Tim to come back.

Don't die. Please. Don't leave me.

He held Tim's body for what felt like hours, cradling it in his hands, sobs escaping onto the broken body. It felt like forever until he heard footsteps, revealing a frantic Nightwing. Jason let out a sound of relief.

"Little Wing?" a voice echoed throughout the room, seconding the sound of sobs. A wave of grief crashed over him, drowning him in sorrow and despair.

Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest.

Jason felt as if a whirlpool surrounded him, filled with blood and poison. He was poison. Everyone died… everyone who has cared about (loved) him, was gone. He was poison. Catherine Todd, a needle pierced into cold skin. Willis Todd, blood pooling around him from a severe stab wound (he hated Willis but he guesses, a small part of him wanted his affection, just once). A cry from his Dad as he was stabbed (Bruce was his Dad. He was there like Willis could never be). And now Tim, dead as his own betrayed him. He was poison.

"Jay- Hood. What…" Dick's face morphed to concern, flickering briefly to curiosity, straight to horror, as if a light switch, flickering in a dark room.

Shadows settle on the place, that Tim left. Darkness swallowed the room, as the only window seemed to turn off. It was followed by a numb feeling, swallowing Jason.

"Oh god- Jay what happened" Dick skid over to them, taking in the sight of the blood, seemingly everywhere, and the bullet holes, scars, and visible torture on both bodies.

"We were here for two weeks" Jason turned to look at him, growling. Dick was confused briefly, that wasn't what he asked.

"No one came. Bats never came. You never came. Tim held hope that you would come. He held hope. See where that got him?" The unspoken dead didn't go unnoticed. Jason went silent. His silence spoke words, but Dick didn't understand.

"And now it's my fault that he's dead. He died saving me!" Jason yelled. "How could he d- What did he see in me? I wasn't worth his life!" Jason faltered. He remembered the second day when Tim was chucked into the cell/room. He had smelt of drugs, and scarred beyond belief.

—————————

Jason rested his aching head on the stone wall, his head pounding against it, as if it were breathing. Jason's breaths were uneven and shallow, chest painfully rising and falling (if barely).

Suddenly the bars shrieked in protest as the men (his kidnappers) threw the door open, chucking a dark figure inside. Jason curiously (terrified and dreading) opened his eyes, much to the protest of his recovering body, sending a fiery pain through his head area.

There was black for a second, before a circle-ish item came skidding towards him, and he braced himself. A bomb, a grenade…? Then he saw it gleam red. It was a bomb, it was a bomb, it was a…

The reddish gleam turned into two R's as it came into Jason's eyesight. His heart missed a beast. The only person who was associated with this was…

A moan and whimper escaped from the figure's lips from the other side of the room, and Jason's heart actually may have skipped a beat this time. The figure tried to turn himself around onto his back, and positioned himself against the wall, facing Jason. And that confirmed it. His little brother. Tim. He smelt of drugs, and his tattered Red Robin suits showed scars buried by scars and cuts.

"Jayyy" Tim slurred, as he too, caught sight of the other occupant of the room. Jason's chest and heart banged for the boy. He had been here for days; he could see it. No way those scars and cuts could be made in one day, the amount of time Jason had been here… he thinks. Tim's definitely been injected with something too.

"Why 'ere?" Tim asked.

"Don't 'orry 'bout that Timbo" Jason assured, and Tim's face fell, showing that he knew. Jason had been tortured too.

"It 'kay. Others will 'ome" Tim's eyelids drooped, and Jason's heart plummeted, and he cringed a bit. Jason remembered thinking that, and look where that got him. Dead. Brought back to life, scarred and broken. But Tim… he held hope. Jason had learned not to hope… not anymore.

" 'Kay Timmy"

It wasn't a direct agreeing, but Tim seemed satisfied. His eyelids became heavy, and he drifted off to sleep, leaving Jason the only one conscious.

" 'Night Tim"

——————

Another person suddenly entered. A man dressed in black.

"You bastard!" Jason screamed at the sight. "How dare you! You expect to 'rescue' us after two weeks and not have any problems! How could you! Now look what you've done!"

Jason stood up and held a protective stance around his younger brother's body, his tear trail finding their way to the floor. Bruce caught sight of his surroundings, and his heart panged. More like, it felt as if were being ripped out of his chest. To see his tortured and battered son, sobbing and broken (again), proactively standing over his second youngest son. Tim… his boy, he had several gun wounds, blood pooling around him (and like Jason, his scars buried his scars). He was d-

But being Batman, his face showed no emotion, Nothing. Typically, Batman fashion. Jason stepped back slightly at the sight, appalled.

"Your son is dead!" he screamed. "Why don't you care!"

He does care

"Why didn't you do more to try and find him! Instead of letting him rotting away with me in a cell for two weeks! You owed it to him!"

He did all he could. He was desperately trying to find both of his son's every waking moment. Stayed up all night, all day. He owed everything to both of them. He did the best he could. But that was the thing, wasn't it? His best was never enough. He always failed.

"You know what, old man?" Jason laughed shakily. "You didn't deserve him"

He didn't.

Bruce stood there, looking unfazed when really, it felt as if his insides were being ripped out, one by one, they felt like fire. This was probably what his sons felt 24/7 for the past two weeks. Jason's tear rimmed glare stared into his soul. Lazarus Green meeting Blue. Lazarus Green didn't like what he saw.

Jason lunged.

Nightwing rushed to where Batman was pushed down, pulling a raging and distraught Jason off of him, pulling him back. The Batman suit was covered in blood now, pouring off Jason's wounds and the floor. Like it was covered in the embers and ash when Jason had died. Tim and Jason's blood.

Jason cried out, as Nightwing accidently pulled too hard. Nightwing softened his grip, while Batman slowly approached his other son.

"No! Don't you dare!" Jason's voice rung out, as Batman looked over Tim, his heart hurting like hell. He had already lost one son before, and now another. He picked him up (Jason flailed and yelled in protest), and headed out the room.

Jason barely remembers the next couple of moments.

He only remembers the returning sensation of numb, and the darkness in the room, filled with so many dark memories. Just memories now.

He remembers walking out, numb and sobbing pathetically.

He felt like his body was setting fire to his insides just for fun, to distract his heart from ever missing him.

But he's forever missing him.


End file.
